Call Me
by Ersatz Writer
Summary: "Then I'll call you. Every. Single. Day." It was a half-drunken promise, slurred and indistinct, but Phoenix wanted to uphold it all the same."I'll call until you answer me, Miles Edgeworth."
1. I'll Call You

**Disclaimer: Ace Attorney belongs to Capcom.**

**Set before Rise from the Ashes**

* * *

"Wright, stop your singing."

It was a useless request, but Edgeworth felt that he had to try, if only to show that he was just as irritated with the racket as the other citizens walking through the city that particular evening.

Phoenix, as inebriated as he was, didn't actually appear to register the request until it had formally turned into a command, at which point Edgeworth was feeling tired and in dire need of a drink himself.

"Wh-What's wrong, Miles?" The other man groaned, one arm slung haphazardly across Edgeworth's shoulders, physical contact that made the prosecutor feel distinctly uncomfortable. The unnerving feeling only intensified when the drunken defence attorney leaned his head against his, breath tickling his ear. "H-Hey, let's sing a round..."

"Let's not, Wright." Edgeworth muttered stiffly, wishing he didn't have to associate with the man when he was in such an embarrassing state. Then again, he supposed he should have expected as much as soon as he'd heard the distressed voice of Larry on the other end of the phone. For once, it had been Wright who had been the 'Butz', so to speak. Apparently, Larry had deemed himself unfit to look after his drunken friend with his girlfriend present, and without further ado had quickly thrust the burden on to Edgeworth.

"W-Where we goin', M-Miles?" Phoenix slurred, suddenly shifting his weight so that he was leaning upon the prosecutor as though he were a wall. He seemed somewhat surprised to find Edgeworth moving, and stumbled in an attempt to keep up with the other man's footsteps. "Uugh... I-I feel sick..."

"You do?" Edgeworth halted abruptly, the horrific image of Wright throwing up all over his clothes flashing in his mind. "Perhaps we should stop for a..."

"H-Haha, I was j-just... hic... joking. Really, M-Miles..." Head lolling, Phoenix giggled, tottering unsteadily on his feet. "Wh-Whoa... I sure drank a lot, h-huh?"

"Please, don't make this anymore difficult than it already is." Edgeworth gritted out, face burning under the curious gazes of other citizens passing by. _What must they be thinking of all this?_ "Wright, stop fooling around. I'm going to take you home."

"M-Miles...!" Phoenix whined, and Edgeworth felt a shiver run down his spine. Somehow, it felt vaguely unsettling to hear his name called out in such a fashion by his old friend. "I-I don't wanna go home..."

_Believe me,_ I_ do._ "Wright, stop being a child," Edgeworth reprimanded him, though he couldn't help but tense when the other man clung to his arm like a child. "L-Look, it's just a few more steps before we get to my car - " Though at this rate, it felt like a mile. " - so just try and..."

He wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to say, but Phoenix wasn't listening anyway. "... Th-That was a great date, M-Miles..." He sighed, eyes lidding. "The beer was great..."

"Er... Wright, I wasn't eating with you," Edgeworth reminded him, somewhat blankly.

Phoenix peered at him as though he were trying to stare through a foggy piece of glass. "... You weren't?""

"No. You called Larry, who was with his girlfriend, and the three of you went to a pub." Edgeworth stated, turning his gaze back on the path ahead. Already, he could glimpse the car park in which he had left his beautiful Alfa Romeo waiting, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace - he really wasn't sure if he could stand the constant odd looks directed in his way. _I'm going to kill you, Larry Butz._

"So..." Phoenix seemed to be thinking hard, his face scrunched up in fierce conentration. They were almost in the car by the time his brain finally managed to piece something together. "Wait a sec..." He slurred, leaning heavily upon the gleaming finish of Edgeworth's car, "th-then... What are you doin' here...?"

"I..." Edgeworth began, but then decided to remove the defence attorney from his car's beautiful paintwork first. "Larry called me after you were thrown out of the pub," he stated, sighing as he remembered his friend's call. _To be honest, I would have ignored him completely had he not told me he was already on the bus back home without you..._

"O-Oh..." Phoenix tilted his head, as though he were trying to think. "... And then we went on a date?"

"... No..." Edgeworth felt his face grow hot. _Where is this 'date' thing coming from?_ "We didn't go on a date, Wright." Translation: _You are making me uncomfortable. Stop._

"Huh..." Evidently, the message which would normally have rang through hit a dead end tonight. Phoenix's head sank down on to the hood of Edgeworth's car, as though he were preparing himself for a night of sleep, but his eyes flickered up to meet him, wide and oddly irresistible. "... I wish we did."

"Wright." Edgeworth cleared his throat, the heat upon his cheeks flushing straight down to his neck. "... I think you've had too much to drink." Firmly, he gripped the other's shoulder and gave him a little shake, prising him off the car. "Get in. You're going home."

"Mmh..." Phoenix groaned, but shifted reluctantly towards the passenger side of the car. He spent a moment pulling uselessly against the door handle, and in the end Edgeworth ended up opening it for him. As soon as he had done so, Phoenix fell into the seat, where he sat, sprawled over like a doll with his head resting limply upon the headrest.

"Please do your seat belt up, Wright," Edgeworth commanded, as soon as he had settled into his own seat, and he didn't start the engine until the other man had obeyed his command. Smoothly, he eased the car out of its space, before turning to Phoenix once more. "What is your address?"

When a long silence greeted him, he was almost worried that he would have to bring the other man into _his_ house, which would have been awkward beyond imagination and, he imagined, deeply unpleasant. Thankfully, he did not have to worry. Phoenix had apparently stored his own address into his phone for just such an occasion, and it was with a frown that Edgeworth entered the post code into his satellite navigation. The defence attorney apparently lived not far from his own agency, within an area that was close to the town centre. It wasn't particularly well known as a rich place, but then again, judging by Phoenix's normal attire outside of court, neither was he.

"We should arrive in about fifteen minutes," Edgeworth stated, after a moment's silence. His words were met with no reaction, and when he took his eyes off the road to look at his companion, he found the other man asleep, eyes closed and expression content, with his head resting against his seat belt. Whilst his outing had made him appear scruffy and unkempt, Edgeworth found that it did not bother him so much as it would have done had it been, say, Gumshoe, or anyone else.

"... You drunken fool." He said the words out loud, allowing himself one brief moment of affection.

* * *

Edgeworth almost didn't want to wake Phoenix up by the time they finally reached Phoenix's apartment block. Then again, he didn't want the man to be drooling all over his car either. It really wasn't hard to make a choice as soon as he caught sight of the thin trail of saliva leaking from the defence attorney's open mouth, and without hesitation he reached over and gave the man a firm shake.

"Wright."

"H-Huh...?" Groggily, Phoenix's eyes opened slightly and he groaned. "Uuugh... N-Not guilty, Your Honour..."

"Wright, wake up." A little irritated at being mistaken for the _Judge_, of all people, Edgeworth gave the other man a harder shake. "We're at your house." _If you could call it that... _It really was a plain block of flats, small and insignificant, and though Edgeworth had known not all everyone lived as he did, he had always imagined Wright to live somewhere... bigger, at least. This surprised him.

"Uh..." Phoenix made an intelligent noise and finally lifted his head slightly, wiping away the drool on his chin, much to Edgeworth's relief. "O-OK... W-Wait, what are you doing here?"

Edgeworth sighed, and decided he wasn't going to waste all night going over that again. "Just... Come on, Wright. I'm taking you home."

"Oh, good." Phoenix mumbled, struggling against the seat belt. A long series of fumblings and muttered curses later, the defence attorney was finally freed and, unsteadily, he stumbled out of the car. Evidently, he was still drunk, but he appeared to be a recovering enough to totter a bit on his own. "... Ugh... My head hurts..."

"It will be worse in the morning," Edgeworth muttered dryly, though Phoenix did not appear to hear. Sighing, the prosecutor offered a steadying hand and allowed the other man to cling to him for balance, despite his initial disgust at the defence attorney's alcohol stenched breath. Phoenix clung to him gratefully, eyes half-closed, as though asleep again, and in this staggering, unsightly manner, the two of them made their way into the block and up the stairs. Phoenix's steps were unsteady, his fingers tightening occasionally upon Edgeworth's shoulder as he struggled to find his balance. It seemed like years before they reached the door which Phoenix finally declared to be his apartment, and a further three minutes was spent fumbling around whilst Phoenix scavenged his pockets for his key.

Just as Edgeworth had decided this night was never going to end, Phoenix managed to extract the key from an inner pocket in his suit. Triumphantly, he waved it out as though he had just produced some sort of magic trick, before spending another moment to actually jab the key into the keyhole. He succeeded rapidly, merely on the third go, and as the door clicked open, Edgeworth finally decided he was free.

As he turned to go, a hand grabbed his arm.

He flinched, turning in surprise to find himself face to face with a pair of ocean blue eyes. They weren't quite awake, not entirely comprehending, but they looked at him with the same sort of intensity which he normally would have expected from the man when he was awake.

Phoenix looked at him, and asked: "... Will you call me?"

"Wright..." Edgeworth shifted, looking about him instinctively even though he was almost certain no one would find them at this hour. "I'm... busy."

"So... you're not gonna call me?" Phoenix's expression fell, as though Edgeworth had just stabbed his puppy.

"I..." Edgeworth cringed. _... Damn those eyes. _"Look, Wright. I'm sorry, but I'm very busy - "

"Then I'll call you." Phoenix declared, swaying slightly, and though he was apparently having trouble staying upright, he kept his gaze locked to Edgeworth's constantly. "I-If you're not gonna call me, Miles... I'll call you."

"I... don't think that's a good idea, Wright." Sighing, Edgeworth tried to retreat, but the defence attorney's grasp was surprisingly firm. "I won't answer."

"Then I'll call you. Every. Single. Day." Phoenix stated. His hand tightened around Edgeworth's arm, and this time, when the prosecutor looked up, he was almost frightened to see that the attorney's eyes were surprisingly clear, _sober_. ... _Don't tell me he's serious._

"Wright, I - "

"I'll call until you answer." Phoenix finished, and even his voice had lost its original, drunken stammer.

_Don't tell me you're not actually drunk, you -_

All thoughts vanished when Phoenix leaned forwards abruptly and their lips met.

Edgeworth froze.

The contact was brief, but the prosecutor was startled enough to jerk back reflexively. His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief.

"Wr-Wright..."

The other man stared back at him seriously, blue eyes deep and full of emotions, and Edgeworth had to cling on to the reminder in the attorney's breath that Phoenix was _drunk. _He might have looked, and sounded completely sober, but he was _drunk_. Inebriated. Out of his mind. This was nothing.

"Miles, I - "

Colour was beginning to flush through Phoenix's cheeks. Evidently the effects of his own actions had dawned upon him, and finally, his drunken stupor faded. For real. Suddenly, he looked just as flustered and uncomfortable as Edgeworth was feeling. "M-Miles..."

Edgeworth took a step back. "I'll... be taking my leave, now." His face felt as though it was burning; his blush had extended all the way down to his neck. "I-I... I have some paperwork to be getting on with."

Phoenix nodded quietly. "U-Um... Right... I-I'll..."

Edgeworth didn't wait for him to finish his sentence. His hands fisting by his sides, he turned and fled back down the stairs, his entire body hot with shame and embarrassment.

_God, Wright. What on Earth possessed you to do such a thing?!_

* * *

**A/N: **Couldn't resist writing P/E in the end. Those two are just so cute.

I'm thinking of turning this into a multi-chapter. I haven't tackled one for a while, and, you know what? This time I'm gonna stick with the old 'go with the flow'. I seem to write better when I don't actually have a sense of direction. With lots of possibilities open, I can take this anywhere... Hmm...

Anyway, this is, again, un-beta-ed. I would love to have a beta-reader for this particular fandom. So, if anyone knows a good beta-reader, or is a good beta-reader, please PM me!

Hope you enjoyed! Please leave me a review and tell me your thoughts.

Thank you for reading.


	2. The Consequences of Grape Juice

**AN: **A huge thank you to my lovely beta-reader, **GeekyGenius** for all her work! Sorry if some italics are missing. DocX is really screwed up. :/

**Disclaimer: Ace Attorney belongs to Capcom and Shu Takumi**

Story takes place before Rise from the Ashes

* * *

Phoenix stared at the mobile weighing heavily in his hands.

To ring, or not to ring? That was the question.

He'd woken up without any clear recollection of what had happened last night - not that he had been particularly concerned then. His priority had been turning the flat upside down in search of aspirin, and then to comb his hair, (it was natural – he didn't need gel) before he'd finally decided to pluck up the courage and face the rest of the day as a normal human being.

... At least, that was what he'd decided. As the day slipped by, bits and pieces of the night before began to float back, accompanied with the discovery of various texts by Larry. _'r u home?' 'wer r u?' 'hav u ben pickd up yet?'_

He texted back lazily ('_yep, im home_') whilst wondering what clues he could pick up from those messages. He'd been out, eating or drinking, he remembered that much. He couldn't remember exactly who it was he'd been eating with, but he assumed Larry at least knew something about it. The last text was the one that intrigued him the most. Someone had picked him up? Who?

He pondered this idly as he looked through his fridge, only to realise with a groan that he'd ran out of milk. Pulling himself up, he picked up his keys and moved towards the front door.

And then he remembered.

Edgeworth.

The recollection stunned him to the point that he dropped his keys to the floor. He left them lying there, lost in a sudden onslaught of his own memories.

Last night...

_Red cars. Prosecutors. Lush, comfy seats._

"Do up your seat belt, Wright."

_Grey eyes. Strong shoulders.__The smell __of citrus fruit..._

"Wright, I - "

Leaning in. Not breathing. Lips touching. Eyes widening.

"Oh god."

The memory felt strangely foreign in his mind. He wished, almost desperately, that they didn't belong to him after all - someone else's memories. Actually, no, the idea of someone else kissing Edgeworth... No. Perhaps he'd been dreaming? He didn't kiss Edgeworth. He didn't kiss -

_Oh god. What have I done? What was I thinking?_

_... Nothing, probably. _A snarky part of him answered, and Phoenix felt a sudden, cold feeling of dread rush through him.

Milk forgotten; he focused on remembering as much as he could of the previous night. He was having dinner with someone. Was it a date? Was he... on a date with Edgeworth? But that was impossible. He didn't remember anything about arranging a meeting like that - and Larry... Larry knew something about it too. But then... He remembered quite clearly that it was Edgeworth who had brought him home. He couldn't mistake a car like that even when he was drunk.

And he definitely remembered Edgeworth leading him laboriously up the stairs. Edgeworth taking him to his apartment, turning to leave, Phoenix grabbing him, not letting him go:

"I'll call you."

He wondered how much those three words were worth. Not much, surely - he was inebriated and out of his mind. He wondered how much they were worth to Edgeworth.

_Leaning in. Breathing in the scent of citrus. Touching, ever so briefly -_

_I wonder how much that's worth to Edgeworth?_

Groaning, Phoenix leaned heavily upon his front door and buried his face in his hands.

"I'll call you. I'll call you every. Single. Day." Why had he said that? Phoenix didn't know what had come over him. He couldn't envision himself saying anything like this when he was sober. _I am never touching grape juice again..._

Wait - it was the alcohol.

Yes, that was it. The man who'd declared he would call 'every single day' and the man who'd leaned forwards to kiss Edgeworth on the lips... That had not been Phoenix Wright. _I guess the only call I'm going to make is one to apologise._

_But maybe...?_

He paused to consider the new, small voice which had just spoken out. It wasn't a particularly loud voice, but somehow, it was impossible to overlook it. _Maybe I could call him._ It said, plaintively. _Maybe he wouldn't mind talking to me.__We haven't really caught up yet;__we could... chat__for__just a little bit every day. Catch up on... whatever's going on?_

The very idea of attempting to gossip with Edgeworth across the phone like a certain old bag made Phoenix feel like an idiot, made him feel as though he was bluffing to himself. But the thought had planted itself into his head, and hard as he tried, he could feel the temptation growing.

_Maybe I really could call him. After all... I'm... I used to be his friend, right?_

_No, Phoenix. He was making so many excuses. He doesn't want this._

_But I said... I did say... I don't want to..._

_You have no obligations to keep your word,_ said the rational part of him, cold and firm and in a manner which, strangely, reminded him of Edgeworth. _It means nothing. You were drunk._

_And that's all there is to it._

* * *

He kept on catching himself in the act of glancing at his cell phone.

The battle in his mind, having previously calmed to a manageable level, was rapidly beginning to regain momentum once more. _You'll be bothering him if you call,_ said the critical part of him, harsh and judgmental. _He doesn't want that._

_But I promised!_ The rest of him argued, though his words sounded whiny and child-like.

_You were drunk,_ the rational part of his mind stated, refusing to give in. Y_ou weren't thinking clearly. Edgeworth knows that too. He won't be expecting you to mean what you said._

Sometimes, Phoenix hated that cynical part of him, but often it was the only part of him that made any sense.

_What if I did mean what I said?_ An awkward argument, but it would do.

_If you meant what you said,_ countered common sense, _then did you mean for the kiss too?_

It was a good question and it left him floundering helplessly for a moment. He didn't know what the kiss meant. A spur of the moment, alcohol driven decision, was what he liked to believe. No, that was true. But as for the calling, well...

_I just want to talk to Miles more._

When the critic in him made no response, he reckoned that that was the truth. Despite the recent closing of the DL-6 case, the distance between them had not yet been cleared away. Not entirely. Phoenix supposed it would have been naive to hope that one mere year of re-acquaintance was enough to close the gap of 15 years' worth silence, but he had been hopeful. Progress was being made, and now that the one thing which had been shadowing Edgeworth's life was gone, he was sure he would be able to reach the friend he had believed in all those years ago.

He was sure of it. He had seen it for himself. When they had been celebrating Edgeworth's new found freedom with their various friends, he had seen a smile upon the other's face that did not belong to cold, aloof Edgeworth, but had belonged to his friend, Miles.

_I'm going to call him._

With determination, he picked up his phone.

Then paused.

_Wait, what am I going to say to him?_

The kiss lingered in his mind in a way the kiss itself never did. Should he bring that up, or not? The very idea of discussing something like... that with Edgeworth was... strange, and Phoenix was sure he wasn't going to enjoy that conversation.

_I'll just thank him for bringing me home last night. Yeah, that's it. I don't need to say anything else._

Taking a deep breath, he keyed in the unfamiliar numbers, frowning in concentration whilst he consulted his phone book for the correct digits. _This is probably the first time I actually use his cell number... _Edgeworth had callously scribbled it down for him after finally allowing Phoenix to represent him in court, though it had never actually been put to use until now.

The phone trilled quietly for a few moments, and Phoenix waited with mixed feelings of dread and anticipation.

"Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking."

Phoenix tensed upon hearing his voice. Edgeworth sounded, as he always did, cool and efficient, and it took Phoenix a while to remember that he wasn't attempting to weasel information for a case.

"Hey, Edgeworth. It's, um, me."

There was a pause, and it stretched a little longer than Phoenix thought was necessary. Evidently, the prosecutor had not been expecting him to call. The notion made his heart sink a little, though at this moment in time, there was nothing more to do than to press on. He tried hard to ignore the little 'I told you so' emanating from his inner critic.

Edgeworth, meanwhile, had apparently recovered sufficiently from his shock to speak. "Wright?" He still sounded vaguely startled, and more than a little wary. It was a tone that reminded Phoenix of the day he had first visited the prosecutor in the detention centre, and though that had been a few months ago, there was no way he could forget that painful, bitter discussion.

"Yeah, it's me." Phoenix glanced outside of the window, mulling over his choice of words. "I... wanted to talk about yesterday."

If possible, Edgeworth's voice became even more cautious than before. "... What would you like to talk about?"

_I... don't really know either, to be honest._ He wondered what a safe topic to start off with was. "I guess, I just wanted to thank you for taking me home," he mumbled, finally, knowing without a doubt that that wasn't 'just' what he wanted to talk about. "The dinner was good."

"Wright," said Edgeworth, stiffly, in a way which suggested Phoenix was an idiot. "I wasn't eating with you."

"Yea- Huh?" Phoenix paused. "You... You weren't eating with me?" Suddenly, he felt as though he was back in the courtroom, a similar feeling of shock and disbelief washing over him like the first time Edgeworth had revealed his autopsy report was out-dated. "But you... I thought you took me home?"

_Oh god. What if I didn't kiss Edgeworth, but kissed someone else?!_ The thought made him feel sick. _But who else owns a car like that? I swear -_

"Yes," answered Edgeworth, thankfully, before Phoenix could lapse into panic. "It was me who took you home, though it was Larry and his girlfriend you spent the night out with." He hesitated, ever so briefly. "You... don't remember everything from last night, do you?"

"I..." Phoenix's words caught in his mouth, and he swallowed them back forcefully. _If I don't say the right thing... _Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself, tried not to treat this as one of Edgeworth's traps he liked to lay in the courtroom. _This is different._ He had to remind himself. _It's not a trap, it's just a question. But I ... I can't choose the wrong option. I don't want to damage our -_

Actually, he thought, stopping short in his tracks, he wasn't entirely sure what he and Edgeworth now had between them. More than strangers, more than acquaintances, but falling a little short of actual friends. It was...

_Whatever it is, it's all I've got._ He thought grimly. _And I don't want to lose it. After all we've been through..._

_I still want to be friends with him._

"I don't... remember everything," he mumbled eventually, and he wasn't lying, even if his words didn't really answer Edgeworth's true question. "I just remember... a few little things, though. Like when you took me home, I remember..."

He stopped, listening for any sounds from Edgeworth's end of the line. There was nothing, a silence so tight Phoenix almost felt as though it was physically strangling him. He swallowed, and forced himself to continue.

"I remember saying I'd call you," he finished. "So... I'm calling you now."

Edgeworth was silent, and though the atmosphere felt tense, even across the distance, the noose seemed to have relaxed somewhat. But 'somewhat' was the most Phoenix was going to get. Edgeworth was cautious to the extreme, and when it appeared to be clear the other man had finished speaking, the prosecutor spoke.

"... Is that all?"

Phoenix felt his hand tighten around his cell phone. "Yes," he bit out, accompanied with a firm nod of his head, even if Edgeworth wouldn't see it. It felt more of a confirmation for himself, anyhow. "That's all."

"I see," said Edgeworth neutrally, without much emotion in his voice. He didn't make another comment, though his silent implications spoke louder than words.

Phoenix allowed himself to relax his hand slightly. He was sure Edgeworth wasn't completely fooled, the prosecutor was definitely smarter than that, but then again, he didn't have much reason to doubt the defence attorney's words. Phoenix thought it was for the best, anyway - he couldn't imagine discussing the topic of 'kissing' with Edgeworth. No. The kiss was best left buried and unspoken of. Perhaps that way, he could pretend it didn't happen. This embarrassing mistake, this terrible -

"I assume you've said all that you wanted to say," Edgeworth broke the silence flatly. "I'm sorry Wright, but I have quite a few important cases still left to handle."

It was an exit, Phoenix recognised that immediately, and the sensible part of him knew that he should have taken it. Should have left it a simple: 'Alright. I'll see you round, Edgeworth,' and ended the business. Kiss forgotten, the entire night forgotten. Back to square one.

But he was Phoenix Wright, and it had always been his gut feelings which led him down his current path. Not his logic, or really, his sense.

"Do you want me to call again?"

"What?" Edgeworth responded, after a split second of stunned silence. His voice was incredulous. "Wright, what are you -"

"I did say," Phoenix interrupted, feeling a small, somewhat incredulous smile creeping up on his face. "I was going to call you every day until you picked up, wasn't I?"

Edgeworth made a light, slightly muffled noise which sounded suspiciously like a hastily stifled chuckle, as though he could hear the smile in Phoenix's voice. "But I've already answered, Wright," he pointed out, not entirely unkindly. "I believe there is no purpose to your constant pestering of me now, is there?"

"I know," Phoenix stated, matter-of-factly. "That's why I asked if you wanted me to call again."

The prosecutor did not respond immediately, and in hindsight, Phoenix was actually surprised to find his offer actually considered. Before he could even attempt to withdraw his words, however, the other man spoke.

"I don't know what your game is, Wright," said Edgeworth, finally, almost exasperatedly. "You're not making any sense, and I'm almost wondering if you're still drunk."

Phoenix felt his brows knit into a hurt frown. "Edgeworth -"

"However," Edgeworth spoke over him, his tone firmly overcoming any protest the defence attorney could muster, "I see you are persistent, as usual, and I'm sure you will find some other way of bringing me trouble. Therefore, I suppose..." The words seemed to dangle uncertainly in the air for a moment, with all the tension of a rollercoaster reaching the tip of its ascent. "I suppose... it would not be so bad if you called me every once in a while."

And Phoenix could scarcely believe what he was hearing. It was a 'yes'. A long-winded, typically Edgeworth 'yes', perhaps, but a 'yes' nonetheless. Feeling his earlier smile spreading infectiously across his face, he couldn't help but tease: "What, 'Wright'-eousness only 'once in a while'? Edgeworth, you know it works best taken once a day."

"Hmph. Don't be ridiculous, I am a busy man who has a fixed schedule for work," answered Edgeworth shortly, sounding faintly indignant. Phoenix could almost imagine the prosecutor now, arms folded with one finger tapping incessantly at the crook of his elbow. "Also, your joke was terrible. I hope you at least consider what you are saying before exposing others to such painful puns."

_I have a punny name... _Thought Phoenix sulkily to himself, but he was smiling, and his mood had lifted considerably. "... Thanks, Edgeworth."

"There is nothing to thank me for," Edgeworth answered, smoothly. "I suppose I owe you a favour, anyhow."

_Hmm?_

"- But that is not important," the prosecutor continued, briskly. "Like I said, Wright. I am very busy. If you don't mind, I must excuse myself now. I believe someone is at my door."

"Oh, right," Phoenix murmured, quietly. "I won't keep you then, Edgeworth." He hesitated. "I'll... talk to you tomorrow?"

"If you must," replied Edgeworth, though there was no impatience in his voice, merely soft amusement. "Goodbye, Wright."

"Bye, Miles," mumbled Phoenix in response, yet when he glanced down at his phone, he realised Edgeworth had already hung up.

* * *

**AN: **Please drop me a review and tell me what you think! Edgeworth and Phoenix are cute. :)

Thank you for reading!


	3. Tomorrow at Seven

**Disclaimer: Ace Attorney belongs to Capcom and Shu Takumi**

**AN: **Thank you for all your kind reviews, faves, and follows from last chapter and the chapter before! ^_^ They have all made me so unbelievably happy and played a huge part in breaking my 2 chapter curse! I can't thank you all enough! *virtual hug* Your support really does mean a lot to me. :D

But of course, special thanks to **GeekyGenius** for clearing this up until it's presentable. XP

Please enjoy.

* * *

_I need to call Miles._

It was the first thought that popped into his head the moment his eyes opened in the morning.

Phoenix supposed it was a little sad, but he had not been able to shake the idea ever since his last call, the day before. _Miles Edgeworth._ The name ran as though on a loop through his mind. It was almost as though he would forget if he did not think about it constantly. _I__ promised that I would call him…_

With some patience, however, he was able to force himself to at least finish breakfast - _A__rgh, I forgot to get the milk_ - before he picked up his cell phone. It was then that he noticed, idly, that Maya had called.

_Oh yeah. She's training, isn't she?_ He remembered, pausing to reflect upon his perky assistant. _She's going to be the future Master of Kurain Village… Hmm… Guess I probably should call her as well._

But it was Edgeworth's number he ended up dialling, even though it was Maya who had been on his mind. _I__ can always call Maya later_. Maya wouldn't mind waiting a while for him. Maya would understand.

Edgeworth, on the other hand…

Well, Edgeworth was different. Edgeworth was expecting his call every day. Even if he knew without a doubt that the prosecutor probably had better things to do than to wait around the telephone, he couldn't help but imagine that was exactly what Edgeworth did - or was doing, right now. Sitting at his desk, fingers drumming impatiently upon the smooth, wooden surface, a cup of steaming tea sitting close to his hand…

He was sure Edgeworth would understand too, if he missed the occasional call – probably even feel relieved. But Phoenix just couldn't bring himself to break a promise where _he_ was concerned. Having spent half his life promising himself that he would save him, he couldn't… Couldn't just… Even if it was only a call…

It was only when he heard the 'beep' 'beep' of the call being put through that he abruptly realised the time.

7:04AM

_Umm… That is kinda early…_

He cringed inwardly at his own mistake – _I__ don't think Edgeworth's going to be pleased._ He couldn't imagine how the prosecutor would react at being disturbed so early in the morning. He knew what his own reaction would be, and it would be one filled with curses and grumbles, regardless of the caller.

_Maybe I should hang up before he answ-_

"Miles Edge-" Edgeworth's voice croaked awkwardly out from the receiver, followed by a quick, somewhat embarrassed 'ahem'. "Miles Edgeworth speaking," he tried again, voice clearer this time, but it didn't sound any less tired than his previous attempt.

_Um…_

Phoenix fidgeted at the other end of the line. A falsely cheerful 'I just called to say Good Morning!' sounded just a little too troll-like at this time of the day, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. "E-Edgeworth?" He tried, swallowing thickly. "It's… me."

There was a pause, in which Edgeworth evidently struggled to match the voice with the name. It took him a lot longer than it would have done had he been more awake, but eventually he seemed to reach the correct conclusion. "… Wright?"

"Yeah, hi." Phoenix mumbled, lamely. "A-Are you awake?"

Another pause. "What do you think?" snapped the prosecutor, dropping his cautious tone in favour of an angry, sarcastic one. Not that Phoenix blamed him. "Are you even aware of the time, you fool?"

"Y-Yeah, sorry." The defence attorney scratched his head, shrinking away at Edgeworth's tone. _I can't imagine that was a good way to start the day._ "Did I wake you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," said Edgeworth flatly, and Phoenix could feel his powerful, poisonous glare even from the other end of the line. "I don't think you realise that I was only able to get to sleep at 2AM yesterday."

_… Ah._ Phoenix cringed. "I'm sorry, Edgeworth. I… didn't think you'd be this busy."

"Hmph. I don't suppose a defence attorney such as yourself would understand what it's like." Edgeworth's words were blunt, but his tone was by no means harsh. He sighed, evidently trying to calm himself. "It doesn't matter. I normally wake up at this time anyway."

_Ugh… You don't need to try and make me feel better._ Somehow, it felt even worse when Edgeworth was the one who was trying. "I guess…" He floundered. "I guess you have a lot of work to do then?"

"Naturally," Edgeworth's voice was matter-of-fact. "The prosecutor's Office is not… handling itself very well after… after that last case." He hesitated slightly. "You have dealt us quite a blow, Wright."

Phoenix smiled, somewhat nervously, uncertain as to whether he should take the words as a compliment or not. He couldn't detect any bitterness in Edgeworth's voice, but it must have been natural to feel some degree of hurt. "I was just doing my job," he shrugged, trying to sound neutral.

"Hmm… Indeed," said Edgeworth, his tone unreadable. "In any case, I also have a job to perform, and it's about time that I am up." He paused. "Is there… any reason for your call?"

_Urk. You know full well I have nothing._ "I'm just… I'm trying to stick to my promise," Phoenix protested. "I said I'd call, didn't I?"

"This early?" Edgeworth deadpanned, sounding unimpressed. "I suggest, Mr. Wright, that we appoint a fixed time for you to phone. I would much prefer to _expect_ your calls, rather than being woken up at unsuitable hours."

"Y-Yeah," Phoenix sighed, sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess that would be best. What time… What time's good for you?"

"7PM," Edgeworth answered, almost immediately, as though he'd had that answer prepared for a while now. "I usually take a short break around then for dinner. How does that sound for you?"

"Seven? Yeah, that sounds good…" _'Cos honestly? I have nothing to do 24/7._ "Um, look," he mumbled, awkwardly, running a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry for disturbing you, Edgeworth. I won't keep you now. You must have other things to be getting on with." L_ike getting dressed, or eating breakfast or something… Not listening to some guy floundering for conversation on the phone._

"Don't apologise, Wright," Edgeworth's voice sounded abruptly, before Phoenix could even complete his mournful monologue. "It wasn't… I wasn't…"

Edgeworth… stuttering? Phoenix frowned. "What do you mean?" He asked, hesitantly, when the other failed to come up with an audible sentence. Was there something in their conversation that he'd missed?

There was a frustrated sigh from Edgeworth's end of the line, though the prosecutor did not attempt to explain himself further. "It doesn't matter," he muttered, somewhat rashly. "Goodbye, Wright. I will await your call at 7PM tomorrow."

The conversation ended almost before Phoenix could hear Edgeworth's last line, and the defence attorney could only stare at his cell in confusion.

_What is he - ? Was he trying to say something to me?_ He wondered, frowning. _I wish I knew what he was talking about… We really do have a long way to go._

He paused, closing his eyes as the memory of his own words rang clearly in his ears. _I'll call you._

_Tomorrow at seven, huh?_

* * *

_"Hey, Nick! It's me, Larry. Just wanted to apologise about leaving you on your own a few weeks ago. My girl was just a bit uncomfortable with you drunk, ya know? I thought you might grope her or something. Anyway, I'll make up for it by buyin' you a drink at that Russian place, the Borscht Bowl Club, tomorrow at seven, 'kay? I'll catch ya then."_ BEEP

* * *

Considering the events which had happened the last time he and Larry went out drinking, Phoenix wondered whether it really was the wisest thing to agree to it this time.

He sat at the counter of the club, idly watching the piano player tinkle out a tune, whilst musing over his glass of Coke. It had been a few weeks since he had made that embarrassing declaration to Edgeworth, and he'd taken care not to touch a drop of alcohol since. Apparently he just couldn't be trusted with the thing, and he didn't want to drink until someone else – in this case, Larry Butz – arrived to keep an eye at him. The idea that he needed Larry, of all people, to watch over him was depressing.

Edgeworth was of the same opinion when Phoenix rang him, as it had become his habit to do, at seven o'clock.

"I would strongly advise against drinking again," suggested the prosecutor solemnly, though his words were not forceful. "I, for one, have much better and much more important matters to attend to than catering after drunken attorneys who cannot pay for a taxi."

"Hey, I can pay for taxis, OK?" protested Phoenix, though it was difficult to deny the truth in the other's words. "I might be a little low on cash at the moment, but I can definitely pay for a taxi."

"Just as much as Detective Gumshoe can, I suspect," said Edgeworth wryly, sounding both amused and exasperated. "But who have you to blame for your own lack of income? I hear you have been refusing clients turning up at your door."

His words, though offhand and by no means provoking, nevertheless made Phoenix frown. "How did you know?" He asked, quietly, somewhat surprised at the idea that Edgeworth actually cared about what he was doing.

Edgeworth, however, merely scoffed. "How can you not know?" He countered, though his question was more rhetorical. "The entire world of law is keeping an eye on your activities. You are, after all, Phoenix Wright: the rookie defence attorney with a perfect win record who has," – here his words twisted, not quite bitter, but not entirely pleasant to the ears either – "shamed the Demon Prosecutor and brought the truth to light when everyone else believed it to be hidden away forever. You have saved so many lives…" He paused. "Including mine. There is no way I cannot hear of your deeds now, is there?

It wasn't the first time Edgeworth had spoken of him like this, but Phoenix had never felt anything short of discomfort whenever he heard those words - especially when they were spoken by him. They were not complimentary; rather, every syllable rang of a reluctant acknowledgement, told him of a bitter man embroiled in a debt he did not want to be in. It always made him feel uncomfortable to hear them – they were words that separated them. One man standing above the other in a way that he had never wanted it to be.

Sometimes, he wondered if…

"Yo, Nick! You're here already!" Larry's voice called out, across the club, and Phoenix turned, involuntarily, to the source of the ruckus. The troublesome young man was grinning at him from the doors, bright orange jacket sticking out like a sore thumb against an otherwise pleasant dining room. Phoenix sighed quietly as the Butz made his way forward, and watched with something akin to exasperated acceptance as the other man stumbled into a chair and knocked it in the way of a wandering waitress. Mere seconds later, a steaming bowl of borscht arced across the room and landed with an ungainly splatter upon an indignant customer's head.

Whilst Larry apologised frantically to the angry customer, Phoenix turned back towards his cell. "Sorry, Edgeworth," he sighed, though he continued to keep a close eye on the frantic scene before him. "Larry's here, and he's just knocked a bowl of borscht on to someone's head."

"'If something smells, it's usually the Butz.'" Edgeworth recited flatly, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"He didn't mean to," Phoenix put in idly, knowing that no amount of defending could truly save Larry from the bad luck that seemed inherent in his blood. "I think he just walked into a chair. Who knows when it comes to him?"

"Indeed," Edgeworth agreed. Judging by his tone, he had long since given up puzzling over the anomaly that was Larry.

Said anomaly had, at this point, managed to sneak away from the mess and was already approaching Phoenix with a broad grin upon his face, apparently totally ignorant of the scenes behind him. "'Sup, Nick?" He greeted, perching himself deftly upon the stool besides Phoenix's. "Sorry about for being late. Laura wanted to watch some chick show or something and I couldn't get away. But here I am –" He stopped, suddenly. "Hey, who's the babe you're calling?"

"Edgeworth," answered Phoenix honestly, until he realised his mistake. "I-I mean, I was talking to Edgeworth before you got here."

Larry smirked at him, eyebrows raised in a manner which Phoenix couldn't understand, before adding, lightly: "Oh, Edgey! You have his number? I was tryin' to get it off him that time in court, but he left before I could talk to him." And without even waiting for Phoenix's permission, he leant over and snatched the cell off of the defence attorney's hand. "Yo, Edgey! You still there?"

"Larry," the prosecutor's unamused voice came, buzzing slightly through the receiver. "How are you?"

"Doin' good, Edgey, doin' good." Larry smirked, gesturing at a bartender to serve him a drink. "Have you met my new girl Laura yet? She's a model. Looks stunning in a tutu."

"How interesting," said Edgeworth, in a tone which clearly suggested otherwise, "and this must be your, what, fifth romantic interest now?"

"Laura's my tenth – and she's my girlfriend, actually – but she's the one for me, Edgey. I'm telling ya, I can feel it in my bones."

"If you say so," there was an audible sigh from the other end of the line, and Phoenix imagined the prosecutor was rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Larry, if you don't mind, could you hand the phone back to Wright –"

"How're you, Edgey?" Larry interrupted, turning away.

With that movement, Edgeworth's response faded into a faint buzz, and Phoenix could only entertain himself by draining the remainder of his coke.

_… Hmm… How come I'm Wright, and Larry's Larry?_

Thinking back, he couldn't remember Edgeworth ever calling them by their surnames when they were at school together unless he'd been particularly irritated by them. Even then, they felt more like terms of endearment, and he had always felt strangely grown up and important when Miles called him 'Wright'. Now, the name echoed as though shouted from a great distance. Even Maya settled with 'Nick' upon five seconds of their meeting. _I've known Edgeworth for fifteen years…_

"- a few cases," said Edgeworth now, coolly and without much flourish, as Larry turned the cell back within Phoenix's earshot. "It should be fairly straightforward to push a verdict through. The matter was complicated slightly, and police are collecting up the evidence…"

"- pretty hot chicks," said Larry after a few moments of idle nodding and 'yeah'-ing. Obviously he had no idea what Edgeworth was talking about. "I chatted to them a bit, and they were pretty cute, even if my heart's already stolen by my Laura… Want me to introduce some to you?"

_They haven't changed at all…_ If memory served, this was how a daily conversation between Miles and Larry normally went. Both seemed to have devised a tactic of talking about their individual subject without really listening to the other. It created an illusion of a happy conversation, anyhow, since neither was, truthfully, very interested in the other's chatter. It was just the way Edgeworth and Larry co-existed, and it seemed to work for them.

_What about Edgeworth and me?_

His straw gave out a loud, undignified slurp as it reached the bottom of his glass, and he paused to consider the strange, almost foreign idea that he didn't really know Edgeworth at all.

_That's ridiculous. Edgeworth is my friend. My childhood friend. Of course I know him._

But he didn't know where he lived. What he liked to read. What he liked to do in his spare time. Didn't know any hobbies, any family background – outside of Gregory Edgeworth and Manfred von Karma. What was his life like in Germany? What school did he go to? What was his favourite colour? _Although I'm sure I can guess that one._

But it was still just that – a guess. He could guess the answers to all of those questions, but he didn't have concrete replied. Never asked him before, never bothered to find out, _n__ever cared enough to find out._

And that was ironic, because for fifteen long years he had always thought that he was there for him because he cared.

"- should get together sometimes, huh?" Larry's voice, loud and brash, broke abruptly into his thoughts, and Phoenix looked up to find the young man grinning broadly at him. "Whatddaya say, Nick? Just us three, reliving the good ol' days?"

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged, chewing upon his straw.

"See? Nick says he's gonna come!" Larry crowed triumphantly down the phone. "You should quit being such a stick-in-the-mud, Edgey! Come join the fun!"

"I will see if I am free this month," came the exasperated reply, but Phoenix heard the fondness in his voice all the same. "But don't hold your hopes up, however – I have a busy schedule."

"Yeah, whatever. Nick and I'll drag you outta your stuffy old office if we really have to!" Larry grinned. "So if you wanna avoid a kidnapping, you'd better come!"

"Larry –" Began the prosecutor, but was interrupted as Larry continued, glibly: "I'm gonna pass you on to Nick now, 'kay?"

And winked.

Phoenix retrieved his cell phone with an exasperated sigh and held it up to his ear. He knew what role he had to play. "I don't think it's such a bad idea, Edgeworth," he commented, casually. "It's been a while since the three of us last met up, after all. It'll be fun."

There was a brief pause from the other end of the line as the prosecutor considered the defence's argument. "Like I said, Wright, I will see if I am available, but I can't promise you anything." He hesitated then, and, somewhat tentatively, added: "I will try."

And Phoenix knew then, without a doubt, that he would.

"That's good," he nodded, smiling, "so you tell us when you're free, OK?"

"I will," said Edgeworth, and when he spoke again his voice was relieved. "Ah, Detective Gumshoe is calling me. I'll speak to you tomorrow, Wright."

"Alright," said Phoenix. "Talk to you then."

When he put the cell down again, Larry was grinning at him with the face of someone who had just discovered a dirty secret. "Something you're not telling me, Nicky my boy?" He smirked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Phoenix rolled his eyes. "Like what?"

"'Talk to you tomorrow', huh? What's the big idea?" The young man leant forwards, waggling his eyebrows. "Are you guys making plans without me? Off to the beach, maybe? A bar? A pub? The movies?"

"No..." Phoenix frowned. "We're just gonna talk."

"Oh," Larry's entire body sagged in disappointment. He yawned, and then began clicking his fingers loudly towards the bartender, much to Phoenix's embarrassment. "That's boring. What're you even gonna talk about, huh? Lawyer-y stuff? Badge polishing? How I met your mother?"

"... What?" Phoenix frowned. "How I met your moth- No! I haven't... What are you even talking about?"

Larry blabbered some nonsense that Phoenix didn't understand.

But his words did make manage to make him think, and it reminded him of one important fact. _  
_

_Now I have the chance to ask him all the questions I didn't have the answer to before._

* * *

Maya sighed in exasperation as her call was met with a voicemail – again – and placed the receiver back upon the hook.

_Jeez, Nick. What are you up to?_

She shivered in the chill of the cooling, autumn evening and rubbed both hands together. This must be, what, her fourth attempt at calling him now? And still, he never called back. Well, she wasn't entirely sure if he could call a public phone box, but he must have realised someone had called him, right? And he wasn't exactly doing his best at keeping contact, was he? Not even a letter, or a carrier pigeon, or a lovely steaming burger from the joint-across-the-road in sight. What a mean old man.

She glanced around for the time and caught sight of the village clock. Seven o'clock. _S__houldn't he be, like, watching the news now? Why isn't he answering?_

Shrugging, the young spirit medium made her way back to Fey Manor.

She'll try again tomorrow.

* * *

**AN: **Please drop me a review and tell me what you think! :)

Thank you very much for reading.


	4. Nothing to Say

**Disclaimer: Ace Attorney belongs to Shu Takumi and Capcom**

* * *

_Edgeworth supposes that, to some degree, he enjoys his conversations with Wright._

_Though admittedly, the majority of their exchanges are slow and awkward, there are also occasions of slight banter and good humour. Wright approaches him with caution, always with a neutral, careful tone - only daring to laugh if he laughs, to speak if he speaks. He mirrors the prosecutor's mood as though determined not to contradict him. Edgeworth does not quite know what to think of this, except it is both amusing and irritating – and he never quite knows how to respond himself. _

_It is an impasse they continue, a probing, tentative friendship carried only through voice. Neither ventures further, because both could sense, on a subconscious level, that something uneasy, something mistrusting and guarded, remains between them._

_But Wright, as always, makes the first move._

_"What's your favourite colour?" he asks, one day. _

* * *

The phone rang at 6:49PM today.

Edgeworth answered it with a small smile. He had been in exceptionally good humour today (nothing to do with the release of the fourth season of the Steel Samurai, of course), and had even given Gumshoe a raise, if only until the bumbling man had proceeded to spill some tea over his files. Even then, he had not taken off half as much salary as he perhaps should have. The Steel Samurai, as they say, could do wonders to one's soul.

He picked up the receiver when it chimed. "Good evening, Mr. Wright," he said, smirking faintly. "You're calling early, tonight."

He expected the defence attorney to apologise, or to return with some misguided joke, but instead was reached by a startled silence. Eventually, the person on the other end of the line spoke. "Prosecutor Edgeworth?" they inquired, in a voice that was decidedly feminine and _definitely not Wright_. "Is that you?"

Edgeworth started at the sound, and cursed when he almost dropped the phone. _Damn_. He knew he should have checked the caller details before answering. It was unlike him to jump to such rash conclusions. "Ch-Chief Prosecutor Skye," he muttered, his face flaming. "Y-Yes, it is me. My apologies, I was… I was expecting another call."

"I see," said Skye, polite enough, at least, to disguise her confusion. She hesitated. "Was it an important call?"

"No, not particularly," answered Edgeworth bluntly, hoping Wright would not take offence. "It was just… an acquaintance of mine. Anyway, it is of no consequence. I'm sure you have much more urgent matters to discuss with me."

Skye did not answer immediately, but when she did, she had become the composed, efficient woman she was known for once more. "Actually, there are two things I would like to talk to you about, briefly." She stopped, and Edgeworth heard the faint shuffling of papers in the background. "First of all, I am going to assign you to the SP-3 case – the killing of Bruno Centinno, an eight year old child. The defendant happens to be the victim's uncle. It's a tragedy, borne from some dispute over inheritance. I have already sent you an email with the details, and Detective Gumshoe will bring you the police report tomorrow." She paused, and then, speaking more slowly now, added: "It may prove to be a difficult case, Mr. Edgeworth, but I'm sure you are more than capable of handling it. Do you think you can do it?"

It was a question Lana Skye had never asked before, and for a moment Edgeworth felt almost insulted. "Why do you ask, Ms. Skye?" He inquired, attempting not to appear so indignant. "I have handled such cases before, and you have never questioned my abilities."

"And I am not questioning them now," said Skye, firmly reminding him of his place. "Like I said, I am sure that you are more than capable of overseeing this case. The question is: do you?"

"I…" Edgeworth stopped, fingers clenching around the receiver as he considered her words for the first time. "Ms. Skye… Again, why do you ask?"

"In light of recent events…" stated Lana Skye vaguely, though she did not complete her sentence. "Mr. Edgeworth, I am merely making my own assessment. Whether they are correct or not depends on your performance, and your answer." She paused meaningfully, allowing the words to sink in. "My question still stands: do you truly believe you can prosecute this case?"

Edgeworth could not find his response.

In hindsight, perhaps he should not have been so surprised. Taking his place in the defendant's seat had offered him a view he had never cared to look at before. Phoenix Wright's appearance, his first ever loss…

_Yes… They have planted the first seeds of doubt in my mind… _

Lana Skye was truly a remarkable woman to recognise what he himself had not yet detected. He supposed she deserved the honest answer.

"I'll take the case," he said, quietly. "But I cannot give you an answer."

"… I see," stated Skye. Her tone was neutral, and Edgeworth wondered what she had learnt from his response. "I will not assign the case to you immediately. You may have a day or so to affirm you reply. Do not worry about it too much. There are others who are available to fill you in. Anyway," her abrupt change in topic told him that what they had been talking about previously was not her real objective. "There is something else which I wished to discuss to you, somewhat related to the recent events we were discussing before." She hesitated. "I fear it may be quite… personal to you."

'Personal'. Edgeworth had grown to dislike that word over the years, and even now he could feel nothing but a deep shiver of unease. Keeping his voice steady, however, he steeled himself and asked: "And that would be…?"

"Former prosecutor Von Karma," said Skye, without ceremony, and without warning. "His execution is due in three days, at 5:30PM." She let the words linger for a moment. "I thought you would like to be informed."

"Oh… I…" For a moment, all words failed him and Edgeworth found he could only stare blankly before him. Von Karma was… "I… I'm afraid…"He tried to muster a valid response, but his voice did not seem to be working. "I-I'm sorry, Ms. Skye… But I don't…"

"Manfred Von Karma is due to be executed in three days," repeated Skye, this time slowly, and much more quietly. "There was no real debate once your trial was over. He had, after all, already confessed to his crimes."

"I…" Edgeworth swallowed, closing his eyes against a blurring vision. "Ms. Skye, my apologies, I can't…" He set his phone down and rested his head against his palm. Von Karma, the man who had dominated the greater part of his life, the man who had _made him who he is_, will be gone in three days' time. Forever. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"Mr. Edgeworth," Lana Skye's voice buzzed from the receiver, as though from a great distance. Perhaps it was. But it gave him something to focus on from the dismal confusion that had become his mind. "Take a deep breath and calm down. I understand you are shocked, but you must focus. Deep breaths."

He followed his advice, slowing his breathing until the tension ebbed away from his body and his heart could cease its frantic, thumping leaps. "Thank you," he muttered, quietly, somewhat ashamedly, as he let out a final, painful sigh. _You are not a child, Edgeworth. Don't act like one. _"I… I apologise for my behaviour."

"I understand completely, Mr. Edgeworth," answered Lana Skye with professional efficiency, but when she spoke again there was something more gentle in her voice – something not many people heard from the Chief Prosecutor nowadays. "I'm… I'm sorry that I had to deliver the news to you this way, in such short notice. You have my sincere condolences, and…" She hesitated. "If there is anything you need that is within my power to obtain, then I will do my utmost to support you."

"… Thank you, Ms. Skye," was all Edgeworth could manage. He shook his head, and willed himself to stay silent.

Skye gave him a few moments. "If you want," she suggested, quietly, "I can allow you a day's leave, even a week, if you need it." She paused. "You have always been a hard working member of the Prosecutor's Office, and I feel a break would be well-deserved and well-justified." There was a moment where she allowed Edgeworth to consider. "What do you think?"

"… Ms. Skye…" He could hear, despite the relative calm in her voice, how genuinely concerned she was for him. A small respite, but he was grateful. "I do not believe it is necessary," he answered, finally, and repeated, once more. "Thank you." He could do no more to express himself.

Lana Skye seemed sceptical, but again, it was well disguised. "Email me if you have a change of heart," she stated, calmly. "I will be able to arrange something for you if you require it."

"… Thank you." It seemed as though he had become nothing but a tape stuck on repeat, and with only a few more words of polite exchange Lana Skye ended the call. Though the Chief Prosecutor often came off as cold and unsociable to others, she understood when she was needed and when she needed to keep her distance. As it was, she had already offered far more than she had any obligations to do, a kindness Edgeworth was determined to repay, sometime in the future.

In the meantime, he had a call to make.

* * *

Phoenix felt his heart sink, without quite knowing why, when Edgeworth did not answer his phone for two days in a row.

The first day was somewhat more justified. Edgeworth's line had been busy for almost an entire hour. The second day, however, he had simply been flat out ignored.

_He must have work to do. _The defence attorney tried to assure himself, when Edgeworth's cool, efficient voice mail sounded in his ears for the seventh time that day. _He probably has a good reason. Maybe he left his phone at home or something. I'll just try again tomorrow. _

But he still felt nervous. Edgeworth should have kept his promise, should have picked up at the third ring with his usual: 'Prosecutor Edgeworth speaking', or, even occasionally: 'Good evening, Wright', or… or something. Phoenix was sure that he would have at least warned him if he was going to be unavailable for a few days.

The defence attorney tried hard not to think of the possibilities and implications behind Edgeworth's silence. When he glanced towards his clock it was already twenty past seven, and reluctantly, he gave up dialling and focused instead on the television for the rest of the evening. He would have to wait.

He was relieved to hear Edgeworth pick up the phone the next day, albeit at a slower pace than usual – the fifth ring rather than the third. His relief, however, did not last for long. When Edgeworth spoke, there was something familiar, something horrifying in his voice Phoenix thought he would not have to hear anymore.

"Prosecutor Edgeworth speaking," came the usual, introductory line, but this time, it was laced with ice and a form of impatience that didn't exactly scream 'welcome'.

"H-Hey." Faced with such an unfriendly tone, Phoenix figured it would be safer to play informal and harmless. "Edgeworth, it's me. Phoenix."

"… Oh." Edgeworth sounded so flat-out disappointed it was more than a little damaging to Phoenix's pride. _Well, that's a good, enthusiastic start. _"Wright. Apologies. I'd forgotten."

_Forgotten what? My call or my name? _Phoenix cleared his throat. "I-It doesn't matter." He muttered, quickly. "I just wanted to check up on you. You… didn't answer my call the day before." _Or the day after that, actually. _But a small part of him recoiled from the idea of finding out why Edgeworth was deliberately ignoring him.

"Ah, yes, that." The prosecutor sounded a little tense, as he always did when a subject he didn't want to discuss was brought up. "I'm sorry, Wright, but I had more important matters to discuss with… with the Chief Prosecutor, so I couldn't answer."

"I see…" _More important, huh? _Phoenix wondered if Edgeworth himself was aware of what he was saying. Indeed, his calls were trivial compared to one from the Chief Prosecutor, but again, his pride took the blow. "So I take it you're still being kept busy, then?"

"Hmph, well… it wasn't entirely work-related." Edgeworth replied, and a subtle hint of bitterness crept into his voice. "I had some personal business to discuss with her as well, so after that, I had to contact a few family members."

"Um… Oh, OK." _I thought you were an orphan… _Still, he kept this thought to himself. It would be stupid to bring up such a sensitive and obviously painful subject, so he diverted the topic in what he hoped was a light, un-provoking tone. "I hope nothing bad happened."

"… That depends entirely on your perspective," replied Edgeworth neutrally. "For many, it will be viewed in a positive light."

_That's… nice and vague. _It was a type of answer Edgeworth normally employed when he didn't want to go into detail. Phoenix supposed that this 'private business' was another minefield he was better off working his way round. "If you need me for anything…"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, as Edgeworth did it for him. "I will ask," said the prosecutor smoothly, "if the need arises, but your aid is unnecessary at this point in time."

"… Right," Phoenix ran a hand through his hair, releasing a huge breath of air. His offer had been shut down before he'd effectively even made it. "… Um, Edgeworth, can I just ask… Are you OK?"

There was a surprised pause from the other end, one that lasted a little longer than was normal. But when Edgeworth spoke again, he sounded just like himself. "Of course," he replied, calmly and collectedly. "I'm absolutely fine, Wright."

_You're not really convincing me… _To be honest, he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was bothering him, but something just seemed… off. Still, Edgeworth was not the kind of person who would accept any fantastical theory without evidence, and Phoenix decided it wasn't something worth pursuing so desperately at that moment in time. Shrugging, he conceded. "Alright. I just wanted to check." _Though it's a little pointless, because I guess you wouldn't tell me anyway, but…_ "You know you can talk to me if you need to, don't you?"

Edgeworth was silent, obviously thinking the attorney's words through. It was just the kind of person Edgeworth was. He would never burden others with his own emotions. Withdrawn and secluded, it was simply in his nature to hide his own feelings in the face of others.

But Phoenix had to let him know he was there, all the same.

"… I'm… grateful to you," said Edgeworth slowly, almost shyly. Phoenix heard him take a deep breath, and abruptly, he realised that he may be talking, at last, to the Miles he'd been waiting to hear from for several years. "Wright…" The words were difficult, but they were coming. "This is… I…"

He never finished his sentence.

Whatever he was trying to say, whatever he had been about to reveal, disappeared in a sudden instant. Before Phoenix could even react, the door slammed shut and the locks were back in place. The Edgeworth that was beginning to trust him turned away and the Demon reared its ugly head.

"No, I'm sorry," said Edgeworth, and there was a tremor in his voice. Barely audible, but still there. "This has nothing to do with you."

"Wai – Huh?" Phoenix spluttered. _Dammit, Edgeworth!_ "Hey, don't –"

"Wright, that's enough. I have to go," said the prosecutor, and his words were stiff and final, so completely unlike the tone he had used before. "I have too many issues to handle at the moment."

"Edgeworth –"

"And don't call tomorrow," interrupted the prosecutor, with a bluntness that muted any protests rising from Phoenix's mouth. "I won't answer."

"Why not?" Phoenix demanded, and he may have raised his voice just a little so that it almost resembled courtroom volume. It had become an instinct to do so, as if he were pursuing a difficult witness. "Edgeworth, look. Why can't you tell me what's going on?"

There was a pause, and when Edgeworth spoke once more he was angry, something dark and hate-filled that seemed to come from the prosecutor's very core. "I just don't want you involved," was all he said, but it was his next few words shook Phoenix to the bone. "You have always made things difficult for me, Wright."

And when Phoenix could not come up with an adequate response, Edgeworth ended the call.

* * *

**AN: **Turns out Edgeworth's favourite colour is purple. Who would have guessed? XD (I jest, I jest. It's probably 'proud, manly magenta'. XD)

Anyone else think Edgeworth's kind of like Mr. Darcy in some ways? Anyone? Just a thought.

Anyway, thank you for reading! Please drop me a review to tell me what you think. I still have a long way to go!


	5. Hide and Seek

**AN: **Thank you all for being so lovely and supportive last chapter! :D I'll really try and see this through to some form of conclusion (though it feels so far away...) This is one story that I really want to get to the end of. I haven't come this far in a long time, and most of it's down to your kind words. :3 Thank you.

Kudos also to **GeekyGenius**, who's done another great job at saving me from wallowing in insecurity. XD

Please enjoy! :3

**Disclaimer: ****Ace Attorney belongs to Shuu Takumi and Capcom**

* * *

_Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking. I am not available at the moment, so please leave a message or call at a later date. Thank you._

_Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking. I am not available at the moment, so please leave a message or call at a later date. Thank you._

_Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking. I am not –_

Phoenix ended the call with a fierce jab at the unfortunate 'end call' button, and banged his head against the wall.

_Agh! Why?!_No matter where he called, the message was the same, and he'd tried every one of Edgeworth's number he knew – his office and his mobile. It didn't make a difference. Edgeworth recited the same words, in the same monotone, without even the slightest hitch.

_Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking._He said - his usual, introductory line. _I am not available at the moment, so please leave a message or call at a later date. Thank you._

How many times had he heard those words already? He didn't know. He wasn't really sure how many more times he could bear it, either, before he was driven completely insane.

It was eleven o'clock in the morning already – a cheerful, pleasant Wednesday that was quickly turning grey. If it had been a normal Wednesday, Edgeworth would have been at work: would have grumbled when Phoenix first rang, urgently, at seven; would have sighed about his workload when he rang again, at nine; would have teased him for his paranoia in that wry, half mocking tone of his when the next call came through a mere fifteen minutes later. That was what he would have done, what he should have done.

But no, it was eleven, and all Miles ever said was:

_Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth speaking. I am not available at the moment, so please leave a message or call at a later date. Thank you._

_He said he wouldn't answer_, the snarky part of Phoenix, always eager to express reality, pointed out to him when he hung up once more. _Why are you still calling?_

To be truthful, he had been asking himself this since the first '_I am not available at the moment'_, but for some reason, he carried on dialling.

_Bill's gonna be pretty expensive this month._

He ignored that thought and dialled again. It felt like the only thing he could do at the moment.

_No_, he realised, after a moment of contemplation, it _was_ the only thing he could do now - he'd already been kicked out of the Prosecutor's Office. With Edgeworth's workplace out of the question, there was no other way for Phoenix to reach him. Asking around had proven to be equally fruitless. No one seemed to know, or care, about what the supposed Demon Attorney was up to, and Phoenix had chosen to walk away from that one creepy prosecutor who claimed to know him.

_"Don't call tomorrow, Wright_," said Edgeworth's voice, cold and unfeeling in his mind. _"I won't answer_."

"Ugh…" Groaning, Phoenix buried his face in his hands as a very real but recorded Edgeworth repeated his message once more. _You win, Miles. You're really not answering._

He supposed he expected as much. Edgeworth had always been a man of his word, no matter how trivial a subject his promise may be. He always performed to the best of his ability. _After all, he had been brought to be the embodiment of perfection…_

The defence attorney grimaced, shaking his head.

_I won't answer_, Edgeworth had said, and Phoenix believed him. But he wanted to know, wanted to ask: _why?_

… _I wonder if anyone can tell me?_

The thought rolled idly around in his mind for a moment, and then suddenly dealt him a sharp kick.

Of course. _Of course_. Shaking his head and cursing his own stupidity, Phoenix leapt to his feet and lunged for his jacket. His shoes still dangling half on his feet, he shuffled for the door.

He should have asked this question from the beginning.

After all, there was only one person who really fit the bill.

* * *

"Uh… Prosecutor Edgeworth's on leave today, pal," said Detective Gumshoe, awkwardly scratching his head.

It wasn't the most helpful of information, and Phoenix wasn't really sure whether he actually expected the Detective to be a help or a hindrance. At least now, though, Edgeworth had an excuse. He simply wasn't working today. Perhaps he was tired, perhaps he needed a break. He was probably sitting at home now, watching TV. He was _OK._He didn't have a reason not to be.

"So, uh…" Phoenix took a moment to compose himself. _Edgeworth was OK._ "W-Why, um, why is Edgeworth on leave? Did… did something happen? Is he busy? Or, uh, is he sick?"

"Oh, no, no, pal," Gumshoe shook his head, though his heavy brows were furrowed together. "You, uh, haven't heard yet?" He glanced about him, and then gave Phoenix a sceptical look. "Wow. For a lawyer, you're kinda slow, pal. The news have been going round for a while now, after all."

"News, what news?" Phoenix frowned, deciding to ignore the 'slow' comment. "Are they news to do with Edgeworth?"

"No, well, yeah, but…" The detective mumbled vaguely, scratching his head. He looked confused. "Mr. Edgeworth hadn't told you? Strange, I thought you two were pretty close and all… Are you sure he hasn't said anything?"

"Said what?" Phoenix felt even more bewildered, and the detective's stammering and hesitations were not helping to ease his impatience. "Gumshoe, please can you just tell me what's going on?"

Gumshoe sighed, lowering his voice He looked rather uncomfortable. "This is… kind of a sensitive subject," he whispered, "so don't go mentioning it around here, OK, pal?"

Phoenix nodded, impatiently.

"Ahem." Gumshoe cleared his throat, and glanced about him warily. "Well, y'see…" He hesitated. "The thing is… Um… Mr. Von Karma is going to get executed today…"

Phoenix shook his head. "Wh-What?"

Gumshoe grimaced, as though he were repeating something sinful. "P-Prosecutor Von Karma," he hissed, "is going to be executed today."

Truthfully, Phoenix had heard him the first time, but somehow, the information just had to be repeated for it to properly make sense in his mind.

And then it hit.

"V-Von Karma's getting executed?" He exclaimed, and all at once, half the heads in the precinct snapped up to look at him.

Gumshoe too, started and, sweating profusely, dragged Phoenix by the sleeve into a more secluded corner of the room. "What did I just say, pal?!" He growled as soon as they were alone, his eyes darting about him frantically. "It's a sensitive subject! Mr. Von Karma was our boss! A legend! You don't go shouting stuff like that out loud!"

"S-Sorry," Phoenix apologised, shame-facedly, though the shock was still fresh. "I'm just… Whoa. Von Karma's going to be…!" He shook his head, unable to bring himself to say it out loud any more. _Von Karma will be executed today! _The thought felt far too strange.

Gumshoe looked at him. "Why are you so surprised, pal?" He demanded. "You're the one who put him there!"

… _Huh. I guess that's true. _Phoenix shivered at the thought. He didn't particularly want to dwell on it. "I guess…" he mumbled, conversationally, "I guess the news didn't go down too well at the precinct?"

"Yeah. No one could believe it, pal!" Gumshoe agreed, sticking his hands into his cavernous pockets. His brows furrowed. "He was a legend, no matter what people might have said about him." He paused for a moment, and then added: "I wonder how Mr. Edgeworth is taking it…"

_Edgeworth._Phoenix felt himself start at the very sound of the name. _Oh no. Edgeworth –_

"I-Is this why Edgeworth's on leave today?" He found himself asking, his voice sounding oddly strangled in his ears. "Is that why he's not…?"

_Why didn't he tell me?! Why didn't he just tell me what was going on? Why didn't he tell me what he was feeling?!_

Gumshoe nodded, grimly. "I think so, pal," he muttered, apparently unaware of Phoenix's conflict. "I suppose it's only natural, right? Prosecutor Von Karma was his mentor, after all. It must be quite a blow. I mean, after that case -"

"Detective Gumshoe," Phoenix interrupted, his voice low and urgent. Nothing else mattered now, especially idle speculation. He had to, _had to_, know where Edgeworth was. "Do you know…? Do you have Edgeworth's home address? Because, if you do… Can I… Can I have it?"

The detective looked at him for a long moment, mouth twisting in a puzzled line. "Well, yeah, I do, pal," he mumbled uncertainly, "but, uh, I'm not sure how Mr. Edgeworth would take it if I just go handing it out to random people." He shot Phoenix a look. "And I hate to say this, but… well, I think he'd like it even less if it were you."

Phoenix felt his ears ring at the words, even more so than hearing the news that Von Karma was due to be executed. "Wait, w-what?" He demanded, frowning. "What do you mean 'if it were me'? What's wrong with me?"

Gumshoe shifted, hands buried deep within his pockets. He seemed unable to meet Phoenix's gaze. "Um… Well… No offence to you or anything, pal. But you… I mean, I don't know anything about you two, OK, pal? But you turning up might just make things even worse. For Mr. Edgeworth, I mean." He squirmed when Phoenix actively glared at him. "H-Hey, don't look at me like that, pal! I'm probably wrong. But it's just that… every time you turn up, something bad happens to him…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Phoenix felt vaguely insulted. _Someone's always _dead _whenever _you _turn up, detective!_ "I _saved_ Edgeworth last time. In fact, _you_asked me to save him. And we… We get on a lot better now. He likes me fine." _Right?_His mouth felt dry. "We're friends, Edgeworth and I. We've known each other for ages." _Why would I make things even worse?_

"I'm not saying Mr. Edgeworth doesn't like you, pal," Gumshoe said, scratching his head. Apparently, Phoenix's arguments, though not enough to persuade himself, were at least swaying the detective. "It's just, um…" His words fell into a mumble. "It's just that he always looks kinda sad whenever you're mentioned… It's like…" He paused, fumbling for the correct description. "It's like he's… almost hurt, or something, you know?"

Phoenix stared at the detective, for once unable to come up with a single argument or bluff to counter the other's words. What if… What if the detective was right? What if there was something about Edgeworth he was missing? _What if he were the one that was actually putting Edgeworth in pain?_

"Eh, but I'm probably wrong," said Gumshoe suddenly, his face brightening into its usual, cheerful grin. "You're right, pal. You and Mr. Edgeworth are friends. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I give you his address!" Immediately, he began to rummage around his large, cavernous pockets, and after a moment, gingerly fished out a pen. "Oh, uh, do you have any paper…?"

"You can write on the back of my hand," said Phoenix uncomfortably, trying not to dwell on the subject they were discussing mere moments ago. "I just want to check up on Edgeworth…" _Make sure he's OK. Even if he'll glare at me and tell me that it's none of my business, I want to make sure… We are really friends… Aren't we?_

He watched as Gumshoe took his hand and began to scribble upon it, his tongue stuck out in concentration as he wrote. "There," announced the detective eventually, ending the final letters in a flourish and a jab that made the attorney wince. "Mr. Edgeworth's address."

"Thanks," Phoenix murmured distantly, as he tried to commit the words to memory whilst he could still confirm it. _Sounds like a posh area…_ "I'll… give it a go."

"Alright, pal," Gumshoe nodded, his hands once again burying themselves into his pockets. "Oh, uh, wait. When you find Mr. Edgeworth… will you tell him that I hope he comes back to work soon?" He scratched his head and smiled awkwardly. "It's really not the same without him, pal."

Phoenix nodded. "I will, detective."

Gumshoe beamed at him gratefully. "Thanks, pal," he nodded, and then paused. "Oh, and I'm, uh, sorry for what I said before, pal. About you and Mr. Edgeworth, I mean." He scratched his head. "I'm probably wrong, anyway. I mean…" he chuckled nervously. "I-It's not like I know anything, r-right?"

Phoenix didn't answer.

* * *

It took almost half an hour by bus to reach Edgeworth's apartment from the police precinct. Phoenix could feel something was different as soon as he stepped on to the pavement. For one, it wasn't… dirty. Unlike the streets before Phoenix's apartment, these streets weren't decorated with the chewing gum from careless teenagers or the flickering lights of discarded cigarette butts. No, they were completely clear - not even a single stray leaf lay upon its white, smooth paving. Obviously, it was an area filled with people who knew how to keep things ordered

… Which was more than could be said for the inhabitants of Phoenix's block.

Feeling extremely shabby and out of place, Phoenix took a few hesitant steps towards the looming building blocks before him. According to the address Detective Gumshoe had given him, one of those impressive buildings contained Edgeworth's apartment – a large, spacious apartment worth a lot of money, if the size of those blocks were anything to go by. Just the slightest bit intimidated, Phoenix swallowed.

_Hey, c'mon,_he tried to comfort himself, _it's not like you weren't expecting this, were you?_

Of course he expected this. He just hadn't expected the scale of Edgeworth's wealth. Phoenix tried very hard not to think about the empty piggy bank currently sitting upon his desk. The only thing _that_ was gathering was a very thick layer of dust.

He sighed, and made his way towards Block B, which was supposed to be Edgeworth's block. He was only a few metres away from the main entrance when he realised abruptly that a key card was required to enter. He didn't have that. So he bailed and turned towards the 'Call' buttons instead, which allowed him to contact the owners of each individual apartment. Then he realised he didn't have Edgeworth's apartment number either.

_So much for being helpful, Detective…_

Sighing, Phoenix hung his head and filed through his options. Lingering hopefully outside of the doors seemed a bit too suspicious to consider, and besides, he hadn't actually seen another living person since stepping off the bus - not that there had been any dead ones. No, there was no way he was going to be able to get in without the help of someone actually living in the building. And even if he did get in, he wasn't about to check out every single apartment in the hopes of bumping into a man who may or may not be there.

_Urk… I should have asked Gumshoe first… That was a bit of an oversight…_

Aware that he was under the very close scrutiny of a security camera mounted just above the entrance door, Phoenix turned, head drooping in dejection, and made his way slowly out towards the main gates.

… _Wait. Maybe I should check the parking lot. Edgeworth's car might still be there._

It wasn't much of an idea, but at least then he could affirm Edgeworth's rough location. Frowning thoughtfully, he changed direction and turned towards the lot. _Umm… What does Edgeworth's car look like, again?_It was red, he knew that. _What type was it? Japanese? I_think _it's Japanese… Maybe I'll recognise it if I see it…_It was a sports car though, he seemed to remember. _I've only seen it twice, and that other time I was…_

_Urk. Don't go there._

Much to his relief, Edgeworth's car was indeed in the lot when Phoenix arrived, though it took him some time to locate the parking lot assigned for Block B. The car itself wasn't difficult to spot – its gleaming, sleek frame and bright, polished finish made it stand out among the other dark masses of Mercedes and BMWs. It just seemed… like Edgeworth. Perhaps it was the colour, or the proud way its frame was modelled, that made it so similar to the prosecutor. It stood there, unafraid to proclaim itself, determined and strong… Without even thinking about it, Phoenix reached forward and stroked the car's hood, enjoying the smooth coolness of metal beneath his fingers. _Edgeworth…_

"Wright," said a sudden voice, its tone low and icy. "Do not touch my car."

Phoenix flinched, and jumped back as though the car had actively burned him. He goggled – _did that car just talk to me in Edgeworth's voice?!_And then realised.

Whipping around, all he could say was a short, dumb: "Oh."

Edgeworth stood before him, brows furrowed and glare piercing enough to kill. Phoenix noticed that he was dressed as immaculately as though he were about to attend to court - _even though he's supposed to be on leave today._His cravat sat pristinely upon his chest, shirt fresh and newly ironed, and Phoenix found himself wondering if the man _ever_ dressed casually. Then again, the image of Edgeworth in sweatpants and hoodie just didn't seem to sit too well.

Edgeworth glared at him. "Stop staring at me, Wright," he snapped, evidently in a foul mood. "What are you doing here?"

"U-Um…" Phoenix stammered, unable to think of a valid excuse that didn't sound creepy. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really seen Edgeworth, face to face, for a while. (_Since that drunken kiss,_ he remembered, awkwardly.) The prosecutor looked tired, as though he'd missed a couple nights of sleep, and there were a series of lines upon his forehead which hadn't been there before. Hadn't been so evident before. His face was thin, paler than usual, and his already light hair looked as though they were about to go grey pretty soon. _Jeez, and he's only 24._

Edgeworth folded his arms and gave him a look which plainly said: _I'm waiting._

Phoenix realised he must have been gaping for a while. "I, um, wanted to check up on you," he said, eventually. _Nothing better than the truth, right?_

Edgeworth's mouth twisted. "I don't need you to babysit me, Wright," he muttered, his glare unwavering and unpleasantly reminiscent of the look he'd given him when Phoenix had first offered to be his lawyer. "I have no obligations to report to _you_ about what I do every day, and neither do you need to know."

"W-Well…" Phoenix cringed, trying not think about how familiar those words felt. He and Edgeworth… knew each other better now. They could work this out. "I-I know you don't need anyone to babysit you, but… I wanted to know how you were feeling. You, um… I thought you might need someone by your side…"

_Ugh. Those words are so cheesy._

But apparently, Edgeworth wasn't so concerned with how awkward Phoenix's choice of language was. Instead, his eyebrows were raised, and there was something defensive in his posture. "What do you know?" He asked, stiffly, taking a short step forwards. "I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised. It's _you_ after all. You must have found something out by now." His eyes narrowed. "_What_?"

Phoenix tried to move backwards, but hit Edgeworth's car instead. "I-I know…" He swallowed, pressing himself tightly against the vehicle's side door. _Urk. Talking to Edgeworth is bad for the heart…_"I know about…" _Just be honest… That's your best bet! _"I know about… Von Karma's execution."

The name was uttered very quietly, almost inaudible, because Phoenix certainly didn't want to hear it again, and he'd hoped that Edgeworth wouldn't hear it either. But he did. And with that, the silence shattered around them with all the force of a falling glass lantern.

Edgeworth stared at him for a moment, trembling minutely. And then he deflated.

"I see…" He murmured, and a small, faint smile crept upon his face, one which, Phoenix thought, did somehow appear to be sad. "There's no hiding anything from you, is there, Wright…?"

Phoenix didn't answer, and Edgeworth didn't say anything else either. The prosecutor's head was lowered, and Phoenix saw that he was holding his arm in that awkward, protective stance he adopted when all his walls were broken and he was vulnerable. When all the glares and scowls fell away, this was what they revealed.

Phoenix felt his heart ache as Gumshoe's words echoed distantly in his mind. _He always looks kinda sad whenever you're mentioned… It's like… It's like he's hurt, or something, you know?_

He had to admit, the prosecutor did look injured, standing before him and cradling his arm as though he were bleeding.

_Is it… Is it really me who's…?_

He didn't finish that thought, which he felt vaguely thankful for, because Edgeworth spoke, finally having collected himself enough to pull himself upright. He spoke quickly, in his usual efficient manner, though his gaze never quite met Phoenix's. "I came…" he murmured, hesitantly at first, "I came out to get something to eat. There is quite a good café in the city, and I often go there when I need to clear my mind. I was… I was planning to go there when I bumped into you."

He paused, and his eyes flickered, almost shyly, towards Phoenix's faces. Then, all too soon, they turned themselves back towards the ground, where they remained glued as he muttered:

"Do you want to come with me?"

Phoenix blinked, opening his mouth and closing it once more. "I… I…" He floundered, taken aback. "I-I mean, um, sure, OK. I don't mind. But I don't have any, um… money –"

"That's fine," interrupted Edgeworth, quietly. "I'll pay." A short silence fell after those words, but it was the prosecutor who broke it again. "Wright…" He murmured, and his cheeks tinted a little as he spoke. "… Can I talk to you for a bit?"

Phoenix stopped. In those words, he sensed something that was a little more than a request.

And he knew his response immediately.

"Of course," he answered, without hesitation. _You know I would have said 'yes' even without a free cup of coffee, right, Miles?_ "I'm always available to talk, or just listen, you know, if you want me to."

Edgeworth nodded, a hasty dip of the head that never really came back up. He seemed inclined to stare anywhere except at Phoenix. "… Fine," he answered at last, somewhat gruffly. "Get in the car."

Phoenix obliged, without complaint, and as Edgeworth settled into the driver's seat next to him, he felt something warm blossom in his heart.

_Hey, Miles._

_I think I can see you again._

Despite all the events that had transpired, Phoenix felt the happiest he had been for a long while.

* * *

**AN: **Here, I'd like to mention the awesome **Ari Moriarty** and her brilliant story **To Turnabout Eternally**. It's a wonderful P/E fanfic filled with everything that made you fall in love with Ace Attorney (and NaruMitsu) in the first place. Humour, beautiful interactions, exciting plots, character development... Everything. QAQ I can't describe how in awe I am of it. Please take a look at it if you're not following it already. :3 It's completely worth it. Trust me.

I hope this chapter can meet your standards. If it doesn't, please tell me how I can improve!

Thank you for reading.


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